Lucidity
by velveteenMemoirs
Summary: His voice had been soft and tender, his sun-kissed hands starkly contrasting his own pale features. It was then, Byakuya figured how fragile the redhead supposed he was; and perhaps it was a spot-on analysis. One-Shot.


**Rating: **_T_ - Some OOC, mainly subtle fluff.

**Disclaimer: **Tite Kubo-sensei owns Bleach and its characters; I solely us them for writing funtimes.

**Author's Note: **I was itching to write for this pairing for a while… and so I decided it was time to make it happen. Although, I feel I ruined it with my stubbornness to have it out by today. I hope I didn't. Feedback is always loved~.

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The sun had decided to rise an odd ten minutes later than it normally should have, that winter day. Collected globs of humidity condensed along windowpanes, a thick fog hazing what little scenery there was to glimpse at during dawn. The majority of birds had already taken off for the safety of their nests, thus providing evidence for a certain Kuchiki noble in his conclusion of a lack of chirping.

Gray eyes only a shade lighter than the fog outside blinked closed, his pale complexion reflected partially in the window before him. He was dressed in a rather simple lilac kimono, hair only slightly mussed from what should have been perfect and well-deserved rest. He breathed in slowly, exhaled slower from his nostrils before keeping his gaze half-lidded on the smothered world beyond the safe confines of his household.

But all he could see was a rather pale Shinigami.

His image of himself was indeed rather blurred and otherwise specious, but he knew his undeniably outlined features were there. Finely trimmed brows, beautiful silk obsidian draping down thin shoulders; eyes level and unrevealing. Peach lips were set in a near-constant, impartial frown, sharp, high cheekbones softened only by the flesh of youth. His kimono had been apparently left open some at his chest, revealing soft, creamy, teasing invitations of skin of his clavicle and pectorals. Not to mention, his flawless pale neck, looking nearly… empty, without the thick heirloom daunting his features.

Despite having been immensely revolved in his own thoughts, the noble's sharp gaze was capable enough of catching a glimpse of bright red rush past his view of the world.

Eyes widening significantly, the Kuchiki heir calmly pressed a palm to the window and absentmindedly curled his fingers around imaginary bars. The notion wasn't that ludicrous, either; he deeply felt a curiosity thrumming inside, and briefly wondered if that boyish curiosity would one day have its way. Possibly, should it, he would risk the unmistakable amount of years spent defining each of his actions into reform.

However, it was relevant to say he was shocked when he heard the heavy breathing of a very familiar fukutaicho.

Momentarily stunned at the intrusion of his private indulgences, the noble did not turn around once; instead, he took a moment to correct his breathing once more. Inhale, exhale; inhale, exhale… when he finally felt less unnerved, he slid his eyelids closed and stifled a sigh when he managed to see who it was from the reflection provided before him. Feeling the situation was needless of greeting, he allowed a sigh to escape him as he turned around, brow quirking as he took in the sight of who could only be his lieutenant.

"Renji-fukutaicho, _what_ are you doing?"

The crimson-haired Shinigami had barely followed along his taicho's query, before breaking out into a rather happy fit of mirth. His chuckles were soft and inadvertently comforting to the noble; considering the redhead normally had a sharper bark amongst his friends. The thought threatened to break a smile onto his own serious features, but he kept it at bay as well.

Belatedly noticing how Abarai was bent over, hands resting on shihakusho-clad knees, the Kuchiki heir entertained with the idea he hadn't slept at all.

"I have a message, Kuchiki-taicho!"

The regal male curtly nodded his head, asking for a further elaboration silently.

Grinning wider, in what could only be relief and excitement, his fukutaicho drew out a little notebook from the inner confines of his robes. Obsidian eyes watched and indulged unknowingly at the sight of smooth planes of muscle flexing with each movement he'd made. Flipping the notebook open and hurriedly thumbing through pages, the redhead let out a sound of content when the Kuchiki could only assume he'd found what he was looking for.

Hesitant at first, the raven-haired Shinigami merely took a few tentative steps forward before he was faced with his grinning fukutaicho and the notebook. It was then he took in the small doodles thriving about on the page, and suddenly each page he was presented was filled with the cute little creatures in the oddest of scenarios. It was then he realized who could have been the one to draw those cutesy creatures in such a fashion, and he didn't know he was actually smiling by then.

Renji didn't make a fuss about it; he simply admired the way a simply quirk of his taicho's lips made him all the more alluring.

Obsidian gaze resting back on Abarai, though it was no longer level and much less collected than usual, betraying his obvious mirth and amusement about the sketchbook.

"Is this…?"

Swiftly nodding his head, Renji presented it to his superior with a softer grin. Byakuya couldn't help the impulsive need to tilt his head in confusion, and the redhead blushed at how adorable his taicho could look even when perplexed.

Clearing his throat and shifting his gaze away, he stared intensely at the fogged window the Kuchiki had undoubtedly been standing before. It made him wonder how he hadn't seemed to have seen him as he sprinted past.

"H-hai, it's Rukia's. She brought it back yesterday when she had arrived, and I was told to give it to you… well, if you accepted it… erm, Kuchiki-taicho!"

The smile that seemed only a ghost moments earlier blossomed into a clearer one as the noble gently took the notebook from the redhead's grasp. Even so, neither had expected the sudden jolt of who knows what when they're hands touched. Renji immediately thrived in longing for longer exposure to the man he admired for so long, but refrained when he caught the mix of confusion and surprise in his taicho's gaze. He was not prepared to tamper with his way of being just to gain his own selfish desires.

Scratching the back of his head, Renji broke the sudden tense silence with a few chuckles, and seemingly lulled the noble from his mind.

Walking over to a nightstand and gently placing the sketchpad inside, Byakuya forced the miniscule blush that had wanted to bloom. The magnitude of the touch had been completely unprecedented, and part of him wished to continue lingering their, alongside his fukutaicho's radiating warmth. He was only clad in his kimono, and hadn't actually felt the quite cold embrace him until he was back in it again.

Regardless, he was thrown off once more when he felt a tentative hand reach out for his wrist.

Instinctively, he had almost pinned his fukutaicho into submission; but had stopped his muscles from reacting like so. The grip was surprisingly gentle and the callousness of the redhead's hand differed from his own soft flesh. He turned around in the tangled mess, and it was then he noticed just how fragile he must have appeared in his fukutaicho's eyes. Sun-kissed hands twitched from their grasp on his left wrist, and he wondered what was eating at Renji to have stifled his impulsiveness more than he'd ever seen it contained previously.

Suddenly, though, he was purely shocked when he felt ruby lips press gingerly against his own.

His nerves raced and his heart erratically thrummed beneath his ribs. He thought his legs had gone numb and contritely, he swore his nerves were on fire. There was a faint tingling in the pit of his stomach, and the Kuchiki heir regarded it as nerves. Despite his own reactions to the kiss, he attempted to hide their presence as he contemplated what he was supposed to do.

Kiss back? Not kiss back? Use a kido on his fukutaicho? The possibilities were certainly endless, but his mind was too busy enjoying the tender flesh pressing against his own.

He noted the pained expression on Renji's face when he had begun to pull back, but hadn't expected to feel the faint thrum of hurt himself to know he must have been the cause. The fragility of his complexion must have increased, because suddenly he was enveloped into a warm embrace. Strong arms quivered as they snaked around his slim waist, another clutching at his hair ever so gently. Byakuya had never thought such a tenderness to have been in his fukutaicho, but he simply breathed as he felt their hearts beat erratically beneath his encased palms.

And maybe he shouldn't have allowed it to have escalated so far, but the noble made no move to escape the embrace as the sun slowly made its ascent.

The fog had finally cleared and he could finally view things as they really were, without hesitation of misconceptions.


End file.
